Playboy Royalty
by Kreisler
Summary: Byakuya, one of the most powerful men in the city, meets Renji, the royalty of the Playboy mansion. A spark of attraction commences and complicates their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The morning after is always awkward as fuck.

First light had begun to stream in when Renji slid out of the silk sheets with practiced ease, not bothering to put on clothes as he opened the door to walk out of the lavishly decorated maroon room.

"And where do you think you're going, gorgeous?"

Aw shit.

Renji rolled his eyes before plastering on his customer friendly grin while slowly turning to face the man he'd slept with last night.

"Just going back to the main house, sir. Your car is parked up front and your clothes are on the dresser to your right." Always remain pleasant, even if your skin is crawling with distaste.

But just remind yourself that the money and the housing are damn well worth it.

The man in the bed remained turned on his side, sighing obnoxiously "I bet you don't even remember my name, red haired beauty. Come on, just relax a little and lay yourself back down." The client patted the bed invitingly, sleazy smirk adorning his features.

Renji narrowed his eyes in irritation, "I am sorry sir, but my contract ended at eight this morning." Be firm or they'll walk all over you. Or fuck you. Same thing.

Abarai proceeded to walk into the corridor despite the indignant protests from the man, allowing the wooden frame to slam behind him.

While making his way down the seemingly endless hallway, a few other Playboy staff members filtered out of their rooms from the previous day. His coworkers refer to this early morning moment as 'The Walk of Shame'. Whatever, it's more like a porno with all the nude guys and girls making their way to the front of the building. Everyone gets out of their assigned room as quickly as possible, unless their client is particularly intriguing.

"Nice ass, Abarai."

Renji smiled and twisted to look behind him, "Hey, Shuuhei."

Hisagi walked beside Abarai as they moved along with the masses. Picking up your clothes in the morning was just tacky in front of a client, so you might as well walk out in your birthday suit and haul yourself to your 'morning after' wardrobe. A particular set of clothes has already been set out for them in the huge space designated as 'The Closet'.

Then again, it wasn't like there were very many people in this wing. These are the cream of the crop; those highest in demand. Renji had to give himself a satisfied smirk at that. He'd finally made it to the top. The richest, most powerful clientele, wrapped around his finger. Literally.

Shuuhei waved as Renji moved away to his designated spot in the back. Upon reaching his dresser, the red head was met by a sudden slap to the head by his best friend, Ichigo Kurosaki. "Ouch! Ichigo! What was that for?" Abarai winced, massaging the back of his head while picking up a white dress shirt in his right hand. Huh, they must want me to go to an important social function, Renji inferred.

"That's for you being a lucky bastard." Kurosaki laughed as he took in Renji's clueless face. "Read your card, man." Abarai shrugged, taking in the white polo Ichigo was shoving on: definitely a golfing job, probably to get into the good graces of some old politician.

Tanned hands picked up his directions for the day, maroon eyes promptly widening. Playboy was trying to rope in a new provider; the esteemed, and admittedly attractive, Byakuya Kuchiki. The CEO of the top dog law firm that defended everyone worth mentioning in the news. Celebrities, politicians, big cases all over the place... and they want Renji to cozy up to this guy? The so called 'Ice Queen'? Famous for not showing any emotion besides the occasional sociable smile or obligated laugh?

"I am in so much deep shit."

The way to rope someone with big bucks into the Playboy deal was to cozy up to them at assorted assemblies and then offer their services to the possible client. At first, the Playboy employee wouldn't let the possible client know where they worked. So, if the individual was still too uncomfortable with the employee by the time they found out, then the cause was lost and Playboy wouldn't get the funding it wanted from that person. However, if the individual complied and decided to come back to the mansion, the company could reign in the money. The Playboy worker who towed the new client into the services obviously had to 'please' the person they had pulled in. Not everyone went into the masses to recruit the big profit though, a lot of them just stayed in the manor and dealt out the goods to whoever got brought in. Obviously, Renji was one of the recruiters.

Ichigo chuckled, "Just think of it as a challenge, a conquest. Don't worry. Playboy knows what they're doing." The carrot top handed Renji the black dress pants and underwear from Abarai's dressing table. "Just flash him your canines and do a little hip thrust. I'm sure he'll melt into a puddle of ice water, just for you." Ichigo winked as he dodged Renji's half hearted punch.

"Whatever Ichigo, at least I'm not going golfing. Those guys creep me out, always giving you the eye and acting like they're just waiting to bend you over the freaking golf cart."

"Eh, I don't mind. Sometimes it's nice."

A few moments of silence passed before both men burst out laughing, "Kurosaki, you kinky bastard," Renji choked out amiably.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I have to go. I meet with the dude at eleven thirty. Good luck with the Ice Queen."

Renji began slipping on his black dress shoes for the brunch. "Thanks man, have fun with your job."

Kurosaki waved without turning back as he sauntered out past the white walls of The Closet.

Abarai turned to face the full length mirror at his stand, straightening his tie.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Well flip me over and fuck me sideways, but this is not going to be an easy task," Renji muttered before turning away from his station. He waved to a few of the other employees as he exited the North Wing and swiftly moved through the garden to the Main House.

Upon reaching the side entrance, Renji was met by Shunsui, his 'caretaker': the person who put together his schedule and passed down orders from up top. The man flipped the folds of his flowery kimono aside as he handed Renji a pair of car keys. "Good luck today, Abarai."

"Thank you, Kyoraku. And you should really reconsider wearing that girly kimono of yours." He smiled at his manager mischievously.

Shunsui groaned, "Your generation lacks any appreciation for the classic customs of the Japanese! It's a shame. Maybe I should book you for a Chanoyu."

"You wouldn't dare. I'd ruin the tea ceremony and spill that shit all over the place."

More chuckling. "Whatever you say, Abarai. Now, make sure to be seated in the front row by exactly eleven, and after you watch them yap and yap, mingle with the crowd, find Kuchiki, and lay on your charm. Here's your invitation, it's your welcoming card into the party." Renji took the white envelope and tucked it into his inner coat pocket.

"That all?"

"Yes. Now make me proud, Spicy."

Renji shook his head as he walked towards the back exit to the parking lot, "Your nickname is not going to stick!" He shouted back, grinning.

Once in the lot, Renji clicked a button on the car keys. He heard its beep and then he saw it, his vehicle for the day, a red Audi R8. Quickly walking over to the car, Renji cooed as he ran his hand down its side, "Hey baby, how are you doing today?" Sometimes he was reminded exactly why he was in this business.

He never wanted to be poor again.

Renji shook his head, he needed to get out of memory lane and get to the function. Slipping into the interior, Abarai closed the door and revved the engine. "Hell yeah."

And then he was gone, all pavement and tires as he pulled out into the city.

**-I-I-I-I-**

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Byakuya Kuchiki!"

The audience rose to their feet, clapping as loud as they always do. Photographers had positioned themselves on the sides, Nikons and Cannons alike all snapping shots, hoping to be the image to adorn the front of tomorrow's newspaper. The flashes came volleying in, but Byakuya wouldn't blink. He never did. He would go up and make a speech in front of all the suits, please the crowd, mingle, then go home and make more calls for work the next day.

He'd done all this before and it's always filled with the same bleakness.

Byakuya confidently strode across the stage, smiling at the host and shaking the man's hand before turning to face the podium's microphone. Cue the professional wave, now smile, and now scan the room to show interest in the population. All grey, black, and white, just as expected.

And red.

What? Byakuya froze a little at the surprisingly vibrant color in the front row. Tan skin, braided crimson hair, ridiculous tattoos, and a wide smile.

Well that isn't part of the usual equation, Kuchiki thought. He quickly covered his awkward pause by moving to adjust the microphone. As long as he did not look at the front row, he would not be distracted by the painfully attractive man beaming at him.

"Greetings, my friends…" and he went on from there. Byakuya Kuchiki always delivered outstanding speeches, and due to his aversion of the first row, he failed to notice that he had captivated a set of burgundy eyes.

He is so hot, Renji internally reflected. And that voice is killing me, holy hell. Oh yeah, I would love to take that suit off of you, Mister Kuchiki. Yeah, you can call me whatever you want…

Abarai shook himself slightly. Fantasizing about Byakuya would only get him a public hard on. Those things are not pleasant in the least; he knows from personal experience.

Once the dialogue from onstage ends, everyone slowly stands up, clapping as they rise, and begin to make their way to the foyer.

Easing through the crowd, Renji can't help but grin to himself. He has been given the opportunity to seduce Kuchiki, and he knows how to go about doing it. All he needs is some wine, preferably red.

Abarai spots Byakuya listening to some colleagues, so he stops by the fruit stand and bides his time, greeting the occasional person as he acts in an inconspicuous manner.

Renji's opening arises in a few minutes.

Byakuya makes his way over to the wine table, trying to get a breather from the all too attentive crowd. As Kuchiki turns from the table with a glass of dark wine in his hand, he accidentally bumps into someone's sturdy, male frame.

Spluttering slightly, Byakuya closes his eyes to regain his composure while turning to set the empty glass down. "I am so sorry, sir."

A gravelly voice responds, "Don't worry about it, but I think that my shirt is beyond saving. I can't walk around like this," a soft chuckle.

The CEO looks up and almost takes a step back when he realizes that the person he just splashed with wine is none other than the crimson haired man from the front row.

Byakuya manages to operate his mouth, "That is understandable. Once again, accept my grievances. How may I assist you at this point?"

The red head smiles warmly, "Buy me lunch."

He couldn't have heard that right, so Byakuya just stares uncharacteristically.

"My name's Renji Abarai," the tattooed male holds out his hand, which is shaken by Kuchiki. "And judging from that speech I just heard, your name is Byakuya Kuchiki."

Byakuya frowned slightly; he was not acting like himself at all. "So, you want me to treat you to lunch?"

Renji raised his eyebrows, "Do you want to treat me to lunch?"

"Yes." The answer came unbidden from Kuchiki's mouth. Damn this man's good looks and comfortable way of standing and ease of speaking and damn him. "Would the establishment two blocks down meet your liking?"

"The sushi bar? Yeah, that stuff's great. I'll drive."

Byakuya nodded slightly, "That sounds satisfactory. But what about your shirt?"

Renji winked, "Like I said, don't worry about it. I got a spare in the car."

Both men left the lobby, sunlight glaring off the glass doors while a valet pulled Renji's car to the front.

As Byakuya positioned himself into the passenger seat, he voiced "Nice ride."

"Not as good as me," Renji sniggered.

Chrome colored eyes widened at the comment and at the speed in which they took off.

This is definitely not his usual brunch, but oddly enough, Byakuya doesn't mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Much to Byakuya's surprise, they reached the sushi bar parking lot in one piece. He slowly exited the vehicle as a Renji smoothly slid out the door and walked to the back of the Audi.

"Just ignore the dead body in the trunk," Abarai smirked as he took a neatly folded, white shirt out of its plastic cover.

Kuchiki froze for a second before recognizing Renji's joke. His slight hesitation did not go unnoticed. "Gee, Byakuya, no need to get jumpy. I'm as harmless as they come. I assure you," the red head smiled, pulling the stained shirt over his head. Byakuya nodded, all attention focused on the rippling muscle and obsidian tattoos curving around Renji's torso.

He should find Abarai's body decoration delinquent in its amount. But the tattoos actually had the opposite effect, and he could feel himself leaning in to observe their artistic beauty. Only after a couple of seconds did Kuchiki notice that Renji had stopped his movements and was remaining still as he allowed Byakuya to analyze the markings.

The CEO stopped his careful examination and coughed awkwardly, "I seem to have caused another uncomfortable situation to arise. I apologize."

Renji just laughed. "It's not uncomfortable. And no, no need to be sorry. I'm glad that you like them, unless that look of fascination was actually disgust," he winked.

Byakuya quirked the edge of his mouth up, "Fascination is the look that I was going for." Kuchiki looked to the side of Abarai's head, away from those maroon eyes.

I haven't… flirted in a while. Maybe I should just cut this off before I embarrass myself any further. Byakuya looked down to adjust his sleeve, the only sign of nerves in his posture.

"You're adorable."

Byakuya's gaze shot up, "Excuse me?" Adorable was never a term anyone had ever associated with him.

"Yeah, you probably don't hear that a lot. But it's funny, because you're so confident, yet when you're put into a more personal social experience, you get kind of shy. I like it." He wasn't being snide at all, just matter of fact.

A blush raced across Kuchiki's porcelain skin as he made eye contact with the vibrant young man in front of him. How is it that Renji seems to find him anything but boring? "Well," Byakuya began. "Sushi." Smooth Byakuya, smooth, he hissed internally.

The red head chuckled as he donned the clean dress shirt, shutting the trunk and locking the car. "Oh yeah. Sushi."

**-I-I-I-I-**

"I am being absolutely serious!" Byakuya exclaimed.

"Tell me you didn't," Renji laughed unabashedly, tears coming to his eyes. "Tell me you didn't!"

"I had to. Otherwise it would have been against my moral values."

Renji leaned forward, placing his elbows on the small sushi bar table. "So let me get this straight. You were drunk at this wedding, and you were mad that the wedding cake had been made with milk from cows."

"Those cows were violated."

"And so, when anyone tried to take a piece, you just stood there and lectured them about the rights of animals and shit."

"…I was heavily intoxicated."

"And when the groom tried to politely move you out of the way, you took the cake, ran, and dumped it in the freaking river behind the balcony."

"I am so glad that you find humor in my drunken escapades."

Renji smiled and slapped the top of the table. "Damn right! You've got some balls!"

"I am a male."

Abarai continued to laugh, patting Kuchiki's hand before reclining back into his seat.

They'd been swapping stories for two hours now, and it still felt like they'd only just started talking. Both were comfortable at this point, and Renji had even managed to pull Byakuya a little out of his professional shell.

But, it was time to get to business. Renji frowned a little; he actually wasn't too sure how Kuchiki would respond to this. Byakuya isn't sleazy in the least, Abarai thought. This is the kind of guy who I would like to date, not have some expensive fuck with. But it's not like he really had a choice in the matter. Such is the way of life.

"So, Byakuya."

The Kuchiki turned his striking, stormy gray eyes up to Renji. Abarai groaned internally. Why did he get assigned to this case again? Shit.

"Yes, Renji?"

Be smooth Renji, be smooth. You're always smooth. Fuck yeah, you can do this. You've spent your whole life doing this. This guy isn't any different. The earlier you do it the better it is for everyone.

"Renji?" the deep voice began to tilt with soft concern.

Oh fuck, oh shit, oh Jesus, don't use that voice on me when I'm trying to rope you into something like this. I'm sorry. Hell, I'm sure you would be a fucking fantastic lay though. Why am I such a man whore? Because money is why.

I really don't want to do this.

But I didn't get into this lifestyle by doing things I wanted to do.

"Say, Byakuya, I kind of forgot to mention what I do for a living."

Kuchiki's eyebrows rose, "That is correct, how rude of me for not asking. Well, why don't you enlighten me?" A small smile graced his features as he looked to Renji expectantly.

"I'm in a certain kind of business."

Byakuya nodded.

"I… I draw. I paint. You know. Art." What am I doing for the love of god what am I doing.

Tanned hands clasped together as Abarai donned his brightest smile.

Byakuya looked pleasantly surprised. "The fact that you are an artist is extraordinary. I would very much like to see some of your work, for I am quite intrigued by the arts."

"Uh, yeah, actually, some of my stuff is up in one of the art galleries for the week. It's the Modern Jungle Exhibit."

"I do remember reading about that in the newspaper. Kisuke Urahara is the organizer of it, is he not?

"Yeah, he's an interesting guy."

An abrupt ring sounded from Byakuya's suit pocket, "Excuse me," he voiced. Turning to the side, Kuchiki pulled out a smart phone and spoke softly into it as Renji stewed in his thoughts.

Fiddling with his napkin, Abarai flipped his half truth over in his mind. It's not like he had totally lied. He did submit art to exhibits as frequently as he produced the pieces, if an appropriate category was available in an opening gallery. He did get benefits from it. But it wasn't his 'job' job.

I just can't do it, Renji clenched his hands together. I've never been hesitant of this before, but this time it's different, this guy has… class.

"Sorry for the interruption, Renji, but I'm afraid that I must head back. My chauffer is coming to pick me up so that you will not be inconvenienced."

Abarai nodded dumbly, "Yeah, yeah okay."

Kuchiki cleared his throat, "Well, I was hoping that you would permit another meeting of this sort. I found it enjoyable."

Say no, Renji, say no, you would be deviating from the damn contract- "Yes, I would like that a lot." Abarai what the fuck are you doing.

A beep sounded from Byakuya's phone, "Well, I suppose that at this point an exchange of numbers would be appropriate… or…"

Renji smiled and gently took Byakuya's phone, adding himself into the 'favorites' section of the other's phone. Couldn't hurt. "Just call me up. It was very," make eye contact Abarai, slowly hand the phone back, yeah he's hooked "Very, nice to meet you." Final widening of the smile, slight nod.

Byakuya blinked slowly a few times before giving Renji a small, upwards quirk of the mouth, "Until then." And he was gone out the door.

Renji stared out the window as the CEO walked away from the little sushi bar.

He probably should not have done that. He should have cut it off. He should have declined the offer, and just made his way back to the Main House with no Kuchiki under his belt of conquests.

Renji smirked.

Then again, I can get away with anything if I try hard enough, and that man is definitely on the top of my to do list.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Just stand in a straight line and look attractive. No, no stop smoldering, save that for later. Kurosaki, stand straight. Matsumoto, your chest is fine stop jiggling it. Abarai, stop looking at your crotch, I know you're trying to text but you're not that discreet. The rest of you, remain as you are."

The coordinator fussed about, adjusting the twenty Playboy employees' outfits and stances, giving them strict orders and demanding the makeup stylists to refresh already polished faces. Everything has to be perfect for tonight; some of the big leagues are visiting the mansion and the welcoming party has to look spotless.

Chandeliers glittered, velvet drapery brushed the windows, gold leaf adorned the columns, and buffed marble floors shone. A large, regal awning led into the greeting area from outside: the gargantuan doors had to be opened through an electronic system due to their weight and size. In short, the Main House looked majestic, as always.

Five minutes before the arrival of the guests.

"Alright, all of you stay exactly like that. I expect flawlessness. Everyone else get out, our work is done." The coordinator turned his nose up and waved for his team to follow him out of the Main House. Once the perfectionists had left, Kyoraku and Ukitake took their places in front of the motionless, smiling group of young men and women behind them.

"It's kind of creepy, neh, Ukitake? They're like wax models," Kyoraku muttered in reference to the eerily still employees.

"They're just following directions, and they do look splendid," the beaming white haired man chuckled.

"Well I, for one, couldn't stay that still and silent for five minutes!"

"When are you ever 'still', or 'silent'?"

"…You wound me, Ukitake."

A sharp sound echoed to the left of the group as a door slammed open and Kisuke Urahara strutted through, a satin green kimono adorning his frame. "Sorry I was almost late, I got caught up at the art exhibit! Beautiful paintings, so beautiful." He fluttered a fan in front of his smirk, "yet not as beautiful as all of you ladies and gentlemen. My lovely employees, you all look dashing tonight. As usual."

Kyoraku grinned, "Hey boss, you must be getting slow in your old age."

"What was that, Kyoraku? I can't hear you over the sound of my dazzling, youthful complexion."

"I think that he's in denial, Kyoraku."

The three chatting men froze upon hearing the beeps of cars locking; the guests had arrived. In an instant, Urahara, Ukitake, and Kyoraku had lined up and unleashed their most dazzling smiles to welcome the sharply dressed gentlemen and ladies sauntering through the door, held open by the mansion's maids.

Urahara opened his arms as he moved forward, "Welcome, welcome! It is splendid to have you grace our humble halls once again. Please follow me to the dining room, my treasured customers."

The group's individuals raked their eyes across the appealing display of Playboy employees, handpicked just for this occasion. Small smiles of approval spread throughout the guests' features, this is what they were here for: Urahara never failed to disappoint when providing 'options'.

The flooring transitioned from marble to shining hardwood as they reached the Main House's dining room. An arched ceiling pointed upwards with crystal windows lined below, covering the walls and allowing a view of the lantern lit gardens. Upon the mahogany table, name-cards projected from small metal devices hovered over the placemats: Shihoin Yoruichi, Sousuke Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Kensei Muguruma, and Toshiro Hitsugaya.

As they took their places, Urahara stood at the head of the table. "It is nice to see your familiar faces, my heart swells with gratitude in recognition of your sizeable contributions to Playboy. This evening is special; my colleagues and I have decided to entreat you to a free night." Nods of approval circulated around the table, this was quite generous. Kisuke continued, "Out of the employees whom you saw at the front, each of you may choose one or two." This group's individuals all have certain type preferences, none of them should conflict in their selection; Urahara had set up his employees carefully.

The meal progressed with polite conversation: who had bought out what businesses, who had expanded their companies, what directions each of the people present were taking with their work.

But they were all anticipating for the night to begin.

Urahara smiled to himself as he sipped from a cup of tea. He could feel the anticipation buzzing around the room as the plates of food were emptied into the guests' stomachs.

"Well", Kisuke began as six pairs of eyes trained on him. "I think it's time for your rewards, my lovely patrons."

Just business as usual.

**-I-I-I-I-**

Toshiro Hitsugaya calmly walked up to the smiling line of Playboy employees. Before any of the other guests could, he quickly motioned for the orange haired woman named Rangiku to join him. She led the way to their usual room. The quarter was adorned with white colored curtains and furniture with drowsy gray and soft teal accents. The young man shut the door; he may be twenty-one, yet his height and face still portrayed him to be a child. But that didn't matter here.

Matsumoto wasn't postured and perfectly poised anymore. Her smile had relaxed, and she walked over to sit on the bench by the window.

"Are you well, Matsumoto?"

Rangiku chuckled, "You always ask that question Toshiro, you're so funny with your stuffy questions. Always so formal."

"I just want to make sure that you're being taken care of."

"Thanks to you I am."

Hitsugaya moved from the closed door to lean against the wall opposite Rangiku.

"One day I'll get you out of here, Matsumoto. You won't ever have to see Ichimaru again."

"Buying my time is more than I could ever ask for, Toshiro. Being like family to someone like me is more generous than I ever could have hoped."

Hitsugaya scratched his head, scowling. She deserves far more than this fear of Ichimaru, fear of going into the outside world, fear of having to sell herself when he wasn't around to 'buy' her time. This couldn't be right for the woman who'd guided him out of the streets and into an orphanage, into the care of well educated, well off parents. He could've lived as a street urchin, but she'd known what that was like. Matsumoto had saved him, and many years later when he'd searched and finally found her here, he knew he had to help somehow.

"My work here is not done, Matsumoto."

She stretched her lips into a straight line, "Is it terribly selfish of me to be happy to hear you say that? I'm a grown woman for goodness' sake. I should-"

"You should get some sleep."

Her smile returned. He's always so formal, always so kind in his own gruff manner.

Ever since she met him, he really has been her little angel.

**-I-I-I-I-**

Gin smiled as he walked away with a busty, orange haired woman. She may not be Rangiku, but this girl would have to do. He darted his eyes back to see the usual pairings: Kensei with Shuuhei, Yoruichi with Halibel, Grimmjow with Ichigo, and Aizen with Renji.

Fun night.

**-I-I-I-I-**

Aizen slowly grinded down on his whimpering red head. He began sliding his fingers into the tan mouth, whispering and licking the shell of Abarai's ear.

"Have you been with anyone else, Renji?"

Abarai nodded, Sousuke seemed to get off on the whole 'disobedience' thing.

"Didn't I tell you to wait for me, Renji?" fingers retracted from the pink tongue licking them.

"I'm sorry, sir" Renji groaned out as Aizen's mouth sucked and licked his chest, "How can I make it up to you?"

Sousuke smiled, right as he shoved his fingers in and began scissoring Abarai.

The tattooed man shuddered and groaned, writhing on the sheets, arching upwards. "Please, please," he stuttered.

"Please? Please what, Renji? You'll have to be more specific?"

"I need you."

Aizen flipped Abarai over, pulling the powerful hips up before plunging into the red head's tight heat. He pulled the long hair up, leaving Renji gasping as he was slammed into. The younger male reached for a pillow to muffle his groans, but Aizen ripped it away from him. "I want to hear you." Sousuke leaned over to trace the obsidian tattoos with his tongue, tasting the salty skin from the man beneath him.

Renji was then turned over onto his back, hissing when Aizen made a firm grip around the base of his shaft. Soft fingertips rubbed over the leaking head as the blushing young man let out small whines, "Sir, please let me-"

"No, Renji. Be patient." Sousuke began stroking his own shaft while keeping a firm hold on Renji.

"Sir, I can't handle this." Renji squirmed, gasping as Aizen's semen spilled onto his abdomen. The pain from not being able to come was building up unbearably.

"Do you promise to be mine?"

Desperate for release, Renji whimpered "Yes, yours, of course."

Aizen moved Abarai to be between his legs, stroking the sensitive insides of the male's thighs, causing the red head to jolt and cry out. Sousuke licked Renji's soft lips until delving into the glistening mouth, thoroughly exploring the opening, until finally allowing Abarai release.

The tattooed male cried out, shaking in Aizen's grasp, imagining that the person pleasuring him was Byakuya Kuchiki.

Sousuke kissed the back of Renji's neck.

"Good boy."


End file.
